Ali Smith: a story
True short story There were two men in the café at the table next to mine. One was younger, one was older. They could have been father...
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ONE HAND CLAPPING
Lydia Davis: two stories
Appropriate Punctuation One should really, at the very least, when writing about the ancient, august, and storied university town of...
The Sparkler by Alan Humm
Chapter One He'd made a life: a marriage and a nest of rooms. But happiness? What could he possibly make of that? They were just back...
David Collard on James Joyce's poetry
"There once was a writer called Joyce" When The Poetry of James Joyce Reconsidered (edited by Mark C. Connor) was published by the...
Yash Seyedbagheri: a story
Surname I hold open doors for old ladies. I never pick up pennies or the occasional dollar in the street. I tell my older sister Nan and...
Benjamin Wal: a story
Laura: an attempt Laura had all but given up on comic books when she came upon the first volume of Cain's Opus 133 series in Close...
Andrew Vidgen: Moments #2
I am six years old. I am hurrying, with my mother and my step-dad, John, towards the train station. John carries our clothes in a...
Benjamin Wal: a story
Dirty Work The room had the fungal smell of damp towels and old sweat. Cigarette ash, too, souring the air. It was a dark morning. Penny...
J.D. Salinger: a story
Publishing J.D. Salinger is a minefield. Attempting to publish him without permission is a bit like running into No Man's Land while...
Franca Mancinelli: a story
The Little Girl Who Learned How to Fly A bird kept alighting on the windowsill and pecking the panes with its beak, brushing the glass...
Colm Toibin: North Atlantic Light
Photograph by Pádraig Grant I am in Wexford now, in the southeast of Ireland, in a house close to the sea in Ballyconnigar Upper, or...
Andrew Vidgen: Moments
I am three years old. My mother, Grace, is pushing me along the long road into my shipbuilding hometown on the west coast of Scotland. I...
Tom Raymond: One Hand Clapping (The Finale)
Que Sera Sera I followed them from gig to gig. I travelled to Leeds and Manchester and Liverpool and all the way down to London. I stood...
Tom Raymond: One Hand Clapping (Chapter Twelve)
But Not For Me Julian leant back in his chair. He steepled his fingers and looked thoughtful, smiling at the interviewer. He said,...
Franca Mancinelli: a story
An Earthquake Story Having landed in the world at a short distance in time from each other, they were now both able to get around on...
Tom Raymond: One Hand Clapping (Chapter Eleven)
I Want You Back It happened soon after that. The second gig, the one in Desmond's college, had been arranged for January. We were at the...
Tom Raymond: One Hand Clapping (Chapter Ten)
Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) I once saw a picture in Julian's bedroom of Julian's mother, taken at a wedding. Strictly speaking, it...
Benjamin Wal: a story
White Collar Thirty seconds into the seventh bout of the card, after the usual stalling and flailing, a clean blow unambiguously connects...
Tom Raymond: One Hand Clapping (Chapter Nine)
Interlude Now he is huge, of course. Look at him: he’s all affect. You can hardly see him, what with the stark circle of light around...
Rachel Wade: a story
Henrietta Bound We were twelve when Henrietta first asked me to bind her. To prevent the growth, she said. I didn't know what she meant,...
Tom Raymond: One Hand Clapping (Chapter Eight)
Money It was ridiculous. Suddenly there was a new microphone, a fender bass and brand new cymbals. Julian was going to Vidal Sassoon....
Franca Mancinelli: a story
The Love of Fire The little girl had left dinner. The intricate conversation did not concern her. She had escaped easily, like a dog...
S.P. Russell: a story
Future Excuses Towards the end of his life Ernst K Hoffmann, the finest theoretical physicist of his generation, could not stand the...
Tom Raymond: One Hand Clapping (Chapter Seven)
I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself That week, they called a meeting at La Cage Aux Pizza. I would have called it, usually, and it...
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